Harry Potter 7
by Xeroxia
Summary: Warning: Spoiler for Harry Potter 5 and 6. What I think will happen in book 7.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter 

And the curse of the diamond harp

Harry stared gloomily out of the window of the Dursley's house. He read and re-read the letter from Ron.

Dear Harry

We hope that you can get here soon, there has been a rather large incident in this place. (I cannot tell you what it is in case this is intercepted.)

Regards, Ron.

Harry laughed quietly at his friend's use of language that was no way what he would say. It was most likely that Mrs Weasley had written the letter then persuaded her son to put his name to it. But still, Harry could not stop wondering what the incident described could be. It was impossible that Ron or his mother would bring Harry to the Burrow for nothing. As it happens, Harry was not in his usual state of loathing his current position. Dudley, the Dursley's son was away 'camping' and Harry's aunt and uncle barely noticed Harry's existence.

Harry had not yet been able to take his apparition tests, so he could not apparate to the Burrow, after his last ride, Harry did not want to take the Knight bus, and there were not many other ways of moving around. Harry looked down at his quill, brimming with ink. On the piece of parchment in front of him he had scratched the words

Ron,

I can't get to the Burrow, any ideas?

Harry.

He rolled up the parchment and made a clicking noise, this brought to him a fairly large snowy owl.

"Hello Hedwig." He said cheerily. "I need you to take this to the Burrow for me." At that, he clipped the parchment to the owl's talons, and released the bird out of the open window. Hedwig was soon out of sight, and with a small sigh, Harry lay back on his bed.

It had been almost four weeks since it had happened, and Harry was still mourning. A normal boy his age would not care, or at least not as much as Harry did. But Harry was not a normal boy, Harry was a wizard. And almost four weeks ago, he had seen another wizard struck dead. In Harry's and many other's opinions, it was the most powerful wizard in the world. He was Harry's headmaster, Dumbledore. Many people Harry's age had vowed to kill various teachers, but not one of those people was half as serious as Harry was. Harry had never liked the teacher, nor had the teacher ever liked Harry. For reasons beyond Harry's control the teacher did his best to humiliate and punish Harry at every available time. But what he had done was unforgivable. Harry's teacher, Professor Snape, had killed Dumbledore. Also on Harry's I want to kill list, was the Dark Wizard Voldermort, he had murdered Harry's parents, and there was Bellatrix Lestrange murderer of Harry's godfather Sirius Black. Amongst killing these Dark witches and Wizards, Harry was working hard for his N.E.W.T.S and attempting to discover the remaining Horcruxes of Lord Voldermort.

"Harry." Harry turned to see his aunt Petunia standing in his doorway. "Dearest Dudley returns home tomorrow, and I want you to bake him a special cake." Harry held back his sigh.

"Yes aunt Petunia." He agreed quietly. Once she had disappeared Harry mouthed the words Get me out of here.

A small Tawny owl had landed on Harry's windowsill. It had a large newspaper strapped around it's left talon. Harry unclipped it, and read the writing at the top of the first page. The Daily Prophet it said. Underneath that was the headline: Hogwarts headmaster suspected death-eater. Harry swore loudly, and in his rage, he chucked the newspaper as far as he could out of the window. This was something Harry would hugely regret.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mrs Primm was taking a stroll. Then several fairly odd things happened. The first of these, Mrs Primm had looked up to the sky to see what kind of day it would be, and straight above her head flew a great big snowy owl. This was an alarming sight, but the animal appeared to have some sort of letter clipped to it's talon. Assuming she was seeing things, Mrs Primm continued her stroll. When all thoughts of the owl were forgotten, Mrs Primm saw another of the creatures. A tawny one this time, then it seemed to enter a house, the house of the Dursley's. Mrs Primm stared at the window dumb-founded. Surely she was seeing things, maybe this was a dream. Then from the very window that the owl had gone into something came out. It seemed to be a rolled up newspaper that landed near Mrs Primm's left foot. Curiously she picked it up and examined it. The first thing that she noticed nearly startled her to death. For there was a picture of an oldish man, smiling, and waving. She stared at his moving hand, I'm dreaming, she told herself over and over again. Yet the man was still there, and Mrs Primm had not woken up. As she broke into her senses, Mrs Primm considered what she could do. After a while, she marched up to number 4 Privet Drive and knocked confidently on the oak door.

"Hello." Petunia poked her head around the door. "Oh, Mrs Primm come in."

"Thank you Mrs Dursley." Mrs Primm replied politely stepping in to the house. Mrs Dursley led Mrs Primm into the sitting room.

"Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?" She asked pleasantly.

"No, thank you. I won't be staying long." Mrs Primm held the newspaper out to her. "This came from your side window, forgive me for being nosy, but what is it?" Mrs Dursley unrolled the paper and stared at it for a second.

"HARRY!" She called finally. The black haired boy came stumbling down the stairs, to meet the newspaper that had annoyed him so much being waved under his nose. He gulped. A woman of about fifty years old was sitting not far off; Harry recognised her vaguely, but could not think of her name.

"Is this yours?" Aunt Petunia asked him as she glared into his dark eyes.

"Why yes, it's my er… I.T project." He grinned. Aunt Petunia put on a large fake smile.

"Technology these days." She shook her head; "These boys can do anything." Mrs Primm still did not seem satisfied.

"Why did you throw it out of the window?" She asked. Harry shrugged.

"I couldn't get the programming right for the second page. I'll figure it out though." He snatched up the newspaper and bolted for his room. Downstairs he could still hear Mrs Primm questioning his aunt. When he reached his bedroom he saw a small owl called Pidegeon waiting for him.

"Why hello, Pig. What do you have for me?" He unclipped a small piece of paper and read it aloud.

"We'll drive round and collect you the muggle way, Ron." Harry did not need to reply, as just then there was the sound of a car horn outside and Harry took his already packed trunk, and Hedwig and was down the stairs in seconds.

Parked outside was a normal looking car, it could have been anything. It was neither flashy nor run down. In the front seat, sat a grinning George and in the passenger seat was a worried looking Ron.

"Where are you going?" Harry's uncle Vernon demanded from the door.

"Away." Harry replied shortly jumping into the back. And George Weasley soon accelerated them out of sight.

"What happened that was so urgent in the Burrow?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Can't say here." Ron replied looking suspiciously around. "Might be overheard."

"Will we be there soon?"

"About twenty minutes." They drove on in silence. Harry was racking his brains for anything that could have happened.

"Was anyone hurt?" He asked eventually.

"Just shut up ok?" Ron shouted at him, and Harry could tell that he had been crying.

"Calm down Ron, they'll be ok." George turned a sharp bend. About twenty minutes later, although it was the height of summer, Harry felt cold looking at the Burrow, it was so different. George led him in. Harry's legs felt weak and his eyes swam as the place that he had once thought of as the best one on earth met his eyes. And the people in it made him gasp and feel sick. The house was full of Death-Eaters.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Ron?" Harry whispered, "What's going on?" His friend looked just as startled as he did.

"These weren't here when we left." Ron whispered back, "Well there were less of them at least."

"Ah, more guests." George strolled in carrying Harry's trunk. Just then Fred came down the stairs.

"Hi Ron, Harry, George. You want help with Harry's trunk?" Fred held out his arm to take the trunk, and as his sleeve slid back, Harry saw the death-eater mark. Harry nudged Ron, who nodded.

"Where's the real Fred?" Ron asked. Fred looked at him bewildered.

"What d'ya mean? I am your real brother." Ron shook his head.

"No, your not. Fred would never become a death-eater." Fred quickly noticed the mark on his arm and hastened to cover it.

"Fred!" George called.

"Obbb maom help meeeee!" Was the muffled shout from upstairs. George pushed past the nearest death-eater and headed up the stairs. But someone stood in his way. Looking up, Harry saw one of the people that he had sworn to kill. Bellatrix Lestrange. With the newly surfaced anger pumping heavily through his veins, Harry stepped forward determinedly. But Ron held him back.

"No Harry." He whispered. Harry tried to shake him off, but Ron was too stubborn. Harry finally relaxed, still glaring at his godfather's killer.

"Well, well, well." Came a voice from behind the woman. "If it isn't Potter." Snape came into view sneering at Harry. "Well it seems everything is up to me once more. Including your destiny." He turned to a death-eater near his left shoulder. "Take the two Weasleys and throw them in with the others." The death-eater nodded, and from behind his back, he produced a thick coiled up rope. First he bound together George's hands then his feet. Secondly he came down the stairs to where Ron was shaking uncontrollably. Harry thought fast, his wand could easily be used now, but what spell? His mind had gone completely blank and no names popped to his mind. Finally he held his wand out in front of him. Ron stared at it dumbly.

"Lumos." Harry muttered. Instantly the group of death-eaters broke into a great rasping laughter. Harry looked at the end of his wand, it was lit. Harry cursed himself. How could he have been so stupid? Ron's hands had been tied together now, and the death-eater had begun on his feet.

"What shall we do with Potter?" Bellatrix asked eagerly. Snape's eyes began to glitter.

"Use your imagination." Once more the room of death-eaters was full of the awful sound of their laughter.


End file.
